


conundrums of the digital kind

by TenderVanilla



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Office, Chatlogs, E-mail, Eventual Romance, F/M, Secret Crush, emphasis depends on who you're asking, phantom thieves run a startup venture!, ren is sometimes a hot mess, shiho is forever ann's guiding light, where would anyone be without makoto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenderVanilla/pseuds/TenderVanilla
Summary: When Ann closes the door to his office behind her fifteen minutes later, she’s got half a mind to send a text to Shiho, about taking back what she said.Because he’s not kinda sorta pretty good-looking.He’s fucking gorgeous.Or:Ann Takamaki finds more than what she bargains for at Phantom Thieves Applications.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Takamaki Ann, Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 19
Kudos: 52





	1. first impressions

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Workaholic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913128) by [RedVelvetKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedVelvetKitty/pseuds/RedVelvetKitty). 
  * Inspired by [Two Flints and a Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326858) by [klairevoyance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/klairevoyance/pseuds/klairevoyance). 



> hello! shuann has been running around in my head for the past couple months, so here I am!
> 
> I would also like to give a special shoutout to the authors and their works that inspired me. thank you for sharing your beautiful brainchildren!
> 
> EDIT: sooooo embarrassing...but I uploaded the wrong text convo screen to one of the text convo series between Shiho and Ann. I've edited it now as well as a few minor boo-boos. thanks again for reading!

**From:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 6:17:35 AM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Welcome to Our Team

Greetings, Takamaki-san; 

On behalf of all of us at Phantom Thieves Applications, I would like to extend to you a warm welcome and thank you for choosing to join our team. We are looking forward to working with you and your expertise to bring Phantom Thieves Apps to greater heights as we make strides towards our mission of empowering society by creating technology for the betterment of mental health and making it easily accessible. 

Our leader and I have consulted on target areas and metrics we would like to boost before the scheduled release of our latest app, and as such I have compiled a list of leads and accounts for your access and use. We would also be very much interested in your input and ideas prior to its release as we are currently in the testing phase.

I will also schedule a meeting between us three sometime this week, seeing as how our president’s schedule is rather full for the first half of it.

Please do not hesitate to let me know if you have any questions. We here at Phantom Thieves play wear many different hats, so don’t be afraid to approach anybody about anything.

Kindest Regards,

  
Executive Director  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
makoto@phantomthievesapps.com

**Attachments:** PTApps_Public_Relations_Task_Contactlist.docx

...

**From:** Mishima, Yuuki <mishima@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 9:24:01 AM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Hello from Merchandising!

Hi Takamaki-san!

Yuuki Mishima here. But everyone calls me Mishima, and I’m pleased to be able to work with you as our new PR manager! As head of merchandising, I think we’ll be working together pretty closely to make sure everyone recognizes us for who we are: a group dedicated to making the world a better place by focusing on bettering the emotional, psychological, and social well-being for everyone. 

I want to talk to you about an idea I have that I think will work well with the release of The Velvet Room. I know it’s your first day, but I’m really excited about this idea and would love to get a jumpstart on it.

Please let me know!

(Btw, you can always find me in the annex if you need me! I know it looks dark, but it’s really not as bad as everyone says it is…)

Cheers,

Head of Merchandising  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
mishima@phantomthievesapps.com

...

**From:** Kitagawa, Yusuke <yusuke@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 09:46:29 AM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** modeling a design

after laying eyes on you this morning during your tour of the office, I was suddenly struck by a stroke of artistic vision. your aesthetics have inspired me to create a new design that will be important for our company, and so I am required to ask you to visit my area again for a closer examination.

post-haste would be preferred, but I suppose after lunch would be fine too.

Yours,

  
Head of Design  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
yusuke@phantomthievesapps.com

…

**From:** Sakamoto, Ryuuji <ryuuji@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 10:01:59 AM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** (no subject)

heyyy how’s it goin’? regrettin your decision yet? 😛

  
Lead Debugger  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
ryuuji@phantomthievesapps.com

…

**From:** Ohya, Ichiko <ohya.ichiko@oribemedianetwork.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 10:44:45 AM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann < [ ann@phantomthievesapps.com ](mailto:ann@phantomthievesapps.com)> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Re: Phantom Thieves Applications Article

Takamaki,

sorry, won’t be abel to make anythinh haeppn for the next two we eks, trying to chse afteranother story, but ill keep in contactt as soon as I’m avaliable.

Ichiko

Sent from my iPhone

...

  
  


Ann thinks she just might scream. She’s got half a mind to punt the wastebasket sitting innocently next to her desk clear across the room for it to spew all the tiny crumpled up stickies she tossed into it. Maybe even stomp over to Ryuji’s desk, wrench his headphones from his ears and hiss for him to _either get better headphones or turn your music lower, because we can all hear you play the same damn game opening song for the past_ **_hour_ ** _, and if I hear it again, I will choke you with this wire_. 

But she doesn’t. She doesn’t, because there is a time and place for everything, restraint included.

For one, Ryuji did help her get the job at Phantom Thieves Applications, after all. 

( _“Multilingual? Experience overseas? What better candidate than you?”_ he rattled excitedly, and Ann was reminded of why they were still friends for all his brashness and the thickness of his skull sometimes. Besides the fact that they grew up together and all.)

On top of that, outward murderous intent, whether towards another coworker or an inanimate object, is generally frowned upon, especially on one’s first day. 

But overall, Ann would have to say the main thing holding her back from inflicting violence is the sheer mountain of work that Makoto had tasked her with. And at the rate she’s going, there is absolutely no way in hell Ann is going to be able to leave any time before nine tonight. 

An exasperated huff blows a few stray hairs from her eyes as Ann adds another number to the list of people she needs to call back. Nothing she can do now besides move right down the agenda...but the grumble low in her belly says otherwise. Which it might as well, because it’s way past lunchtime, and besides, she could definitely use a mood boost right now, and the castella cake she packed this morning might help. 

Ann makes it to as far as the refrigerator door before she two realizations strike her:

  1. She will not be able to find her lunch there.
  2. Her lunch is almost certainly at a certain Café Leblanc, where she had stopped for coffee this morning before coming in. 



Something between a curse, a snarl, and a scream claws its way past her throat.

There’s a basket of rice crackers sitting on the counter in the kitchen, and although Ann knows it’ll never hit the spot quite the same way but the alternative is starving, so Ann plucks one and plops herself onto the nearest chair. People here might prefer eating their lunch at their desk-- she saw Futaba slurping instant ramen in one hand while typing in the other, eyes not once leaving the screen-- but another second in front of a computer, and Ann thinks she could put her fist right through the screen. 

Being past lunchtime, the kitchen is mercifully empty, so she takes this opportunity to drop the first-day, first-impression airs she so painstakingly maintained all morning to slouch in her seat, one hand propping up her chin as the other mindlessly scrolls through her phone, munching on her cracker as it dangles on the edge of her lips.

A picture of a modeling friend draped over her new car. Scroll. Another of someone else sipping tea prettily in a garden. Like. Scroll. An old friend from high school kisses her longtime boyfriend on the cheek. Heart. Scroll. Next: a loop of a steaming cup of coffee, the steam wafting lazily, quietly beckoning...Ann can almost smell it, hear it, even, the familiar drip energizing yet comforting all the same…

_Wait._

There’s _actually somebody making coffee in the kitchen_ , and when Ann looks up from her phone, the timing is coincidentally perfect enough for her eyes to catch his-- steely grey and framed by dark-rimmed glasses-- and her spine snaps ramrod-straight.

“A-ah! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there! I’m just leaving,” she hurriedly blurts out, sweeping at the crumbs and pulling out of her seat.

“No, it’s not a bother at all. Please sit,” he says, easy and inviting.

His voice cracks a warmth that starts from her neck all the way down her back.

“Would you like a cup?”

“I should be getting back to work…”

He ignores her and slides her a cup of hot coffee under her nose, rooting her to the spot, and she’s only slightly aware she’s still in this weird-limbo position of not-quite sitting but not-quite standing.

“Kind of looked like you wanted one.”

There isn’t a smirk on his face, but his voice betrays him. Ann pulls the corner of her lips tightly.

“Am I that obvious?”

He chuckles, rich and low, and the warmth in her deepens. Ann raises the cup to her lips before she actually starts _blushing_.

The coffee is delicious and perfect for the midday doldrums. She might even daresay it’s on the quality of that of her favorite coffee shop.

“You’re having a hard day, I take it?”

Ann isn’t ever really one to let emotions cloud her professionalism, but when her nerves become frayed, her emotions bleed onto her sleeve like a gash. She’s not terrible at hiding her emotions, but this man, with his voice and his coffee and the calm in his grey eyes, has caught her red-handed with nowhere to run. 

So she lowers her cup with a sigh, nodding, and before she knows it, she’s telling him all about about her frustrating and busy first day, which actually began with her forgetting her lunch at Café Leblanc without her knowing at the moment, up to running into dead ends with important people she needed to meet up with.

“I know working with a startup can be pretty demanding...but going from the modeling world to this is like going from zero to one-hundred without a crash helmet or a crash course for that matter. Am I...really cut out for this?” 

The words escape her before she can stop herself.

“I’m sorry...that sounded silly, huh? I don’t mean to be rambling like this.”

He leans forward, knuckles in his hand, pensive.

“If it makes you feel any better, we’re all pretty new to this. And...well, let’s just say I know you’re here for a reason. So, have confidence in that reason.”

The intensity of his gaze makes Ann fidget a little.

“Y-you don’t have to pretend to be nice...but thank you,” she mumbles, staring down at her hands.

Her watch is showing that her lunch break should have ended an hour ago. It’s also showing that she’s late for a meeting.

“I have to go! I have a meeting with Mishima!”

She scrambles out of her chair and thanks her coworker-- whose name she still doesn’t know, mind-- for his time, a little guilty it is so rushed.

He shows no indication of being offended, however, his grin returning.

“Don’t let him get carried away. He can get a little over-enthusiastic with his ideas, so don’t be afraid to reel him in. And please do, for the sake of Phantom Thieves,” he says as she is leaving, and Ann, maybe for the first time today, feels a laugh blossoming in her chest.

“I’ll try! Thanks again! I’m sure I’ll see you around!”

…

**From:** Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 16:59:20 PM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Helpful Materials

Hello Takamaki-san,

After our little chat today during your break, I figured you could use a hand so I looked into the availability of the contacts you needed, and I’ve made sure they were able to reserve some time this week to speak to you. 

I’m also sending you a compilation of the metrics for PTA pulled from the information we currently have on hand in a digestible, easy-to-read format.

I’m sorry we couldn’t do anything about you not having a lunch, so at my request, would you please take off early today so that you may have a proper dinner?

And I’ve cleared out a spot of time on my schedule to hold our meeting with Makoto, so we can get that out of the way at your earliest convenience.

Best,

President and Founder  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
ren@phantomthievesapps.com 

**Attachments:** PTApps_20XX_report_formatted.pdf

…

**From:** Ohya, Ichiko <ohya.ichiko@oribemedianetwork.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 17:02:33 PM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann < [ ann@phantomthievesapps.com ](mailto:ann@phantomthievesapps.com)> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Re: Phantom Thieves Applications Article

Takamaki,

Looks like I found some free time. Are you available the day after tomorrow? We can meet at Crossroads Bar.

Ichiko

Sent from my iPhone

…

**From:** Kitagawa, Yusuke <yusuke@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 17:05:41 PM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Re: modeling a design

Takamaki-san,

It has come to my attention that my previous proposition can come off as off-putting. As someone who proclaims to uphold beauty and all its values, it does not do for me to be so unbecoming, and for that I must apologize.

However, the sentiment still remains; I would like to meet with you regarding some thoughts for a new design I came up with at your earliest convenience.

Yours,

Head of Design  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
yusuke@phantomthievesapps.com

...

**From:** Mishima, Yuuki <mishima@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 17:33:22 PM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Our Meeting Today

Hi again, Takamaki-san!

Thanks for taking the time to meet with me today. While I’m not sure I’m ready to totally scrap the idea of Phantom Thieves body pillows, I do agree with you that something like that should be handled with care and we wouldn’t want to rush it. 

Focusing on something that would give us wider appeal and reward the generous people who help fund PTA is now my priority!

Please see the attached mockup and let me know what you think!

Cheers,

Head of Merchandising  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
mishima@phantomthievesapps.com

**Attachments:** victoria_chan_maid_outfit.png

**Yuuki Mishima would like to recall the previous message.**

**From:** Mishima, Yuuki <mishima@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : March 1X, 20XX, 17:36:04 PM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com> **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Re: Our Meeting Today

Sorry!!!!!! Wrong attachment!!!!

**Attachments:** Phantom_Thieves_mascot_charm.png

...

  
  
  
  


...

Come hell or high water, today is going to be a good day. A better day.

It’s a mantra that Ann breathes between her teeth as she pushes open the door to Café Leblanc, her first stop towards a better day and to right the wrongs of yesterday by reclaiming her forgotten lunch. 

If only fate is so kind.

“Huh? A lost bento?”

“Yes, it means a lot to me. The cloth I wrapped it in was a gift from a close friend. My name is embroidered on one of the corners and everything.”

Smoke trails after the lit cigarette in the owner’s mouth as he glances around the tiny kitchen behind the counter.

“Doesn’t look like it’s here.” He takes a long drag. “It’ll probably make it way back to you sooner or later.”

There’s little time to despair, though, and Ann quickly thanks the owner for his time and makes her way towards Tokyo Station, where there’s an upscale boutique chocolate shop. 

A small box of nice chocolates as a small token of appreciation isn’t _too_ much, right? Hopefully he even _likes_ chocolate to begin with. She selects a box of bittersweets, higher on the cacao content, and holds the glossy gift bag close to her, relieved that in the earlier hours of the morning, the trains are only sparsely occupied, or else the bag would be as good as crushed against her side.

A good day, a better day, she reminds herself as she strides across the lobby of the building where Phantom Thieves Applications is. She doesn’t miss the way the security guard runs his eyes up her legs and backside as her heels beat against the clean, polished floors. Urgent and unrelenting, like the beat of her heart.

Her reflection in the elevator door stares back at her, wearing one of her cutest blouses, a long skirt that flatters her curves without being too overt, and lipgloss that tints her lips a faint crimson.

It disappears, becoming a view of the floor that Phantom Thieves Applications is located on. Half of it is still shadowed in darkness as the cubicles are empty and quiet, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle as most of the staff has yet to arrive.

But when Ann arrives at her own desk to set down her belongings, there is something sitting upon it, enrobed in a rich, red cloth that she only knows so well. It’s unmistakably hers because on one of the edges, her name is stitched there, emblazoned in gold and as beautiful as it was the day Shiho gave it to her. It looks cleaned and pressed, devoid of any wrinkles. Ann remembers a dark persistent splotch from a rogue meatball. That too is gone.

And next to it, a card, with neat, careful handwriting.

_I think this might be yours. Fresh starts begin with a fresh lunch, so I hope today will be a good day. A better day._

_I hope you like curry._

_Ren_

And suddenly, her gift chocolates, tastefully trimmed with a sheer golden ribbon, are nothing close to enough. 

But when she hands them over to him, her face warm and unable to stifle her nervous laughter, Ren tries to convince her otherwise, that just her being able to take time to relax and recuperate is more than enough for him. Ann only barely listens, mesmerized by the way his smile reaches his eyes behind his glasses, and musings about the things she can do to make him smile at her like that again flit through her brain.

When Ann closes the door to his office behind her fifteen minutes later, she’s got half a mind to send a text to Shiho, about taking back what she said.

Because he’s not kinda sorta pretty good-looking.

_He’s fucking gorgeous_. 


	2. in t-minus 1 week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a week in the life of Ann Takamaki (that also happens to be a big week for her). for many reasons.
> 
> (like the overt flirting between her and her boss's boss, that, by the way, neither one owns up to.)

**_monday._ **

**From:** Dr. Takemi,Tae <tae.takemi@tokyomeduniversity.org>  
**Sent** : April 0X, 20XX, 09:08:22 AM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** SECURE: PT-Applications: Project V Clinical Review

Dear Takamaki-san,

Attached is your requested review of the application currently titled “Project V.” I’ve evaluated it for its usability, perceived benefits for patients, and how well it delivers on its promise to be a “safe space for those who struggle with anxiety and depressive episodes” by utilizing A.I. technologies such as machine learning and natural language processing. As well, I’ve provided commentary on possible issues and areas of improvement.

I must say, I am impressed and look forward to its release. With continual improvement, I believe this has the potential to help many.

Albeit not surprising considering who the engineer leading this is.

Send my regards to Ren.

To your good health,  
Dr. Tae Takemi, MD  
Senior Medical Consultant  
Tokyo Medical University

**Attachments:** Prj_V_Review_T_Takemi_MD.pdf

...

**_tuesday._ **

Ryuji stretches and yawns widely, resting his cheek flatly onto Ann’s desk.

“Man, that extra helping of noodles was _not_ the way to go,” he gripes, eyes drooping lazily.

He seems all but ready for a post-lunch nap, which is less than prudent, given that the highly anticipated release of the Phantom Thieves App’s newest application is slated to be released within less than one week.

Ann sighs and shoos him off with one hand as the other stays latched onto her mouse, scrolling through charts and feedback gathered from the latest round of testing.

“You never know when to stop, do you?”

“Hey, I was just doing my best to defend my honor from _that_ guy over there!” 

He jerks one thumb over to the direction of Yusuke’s desk, where Ren is standing, deep in discussion with the head of design.

“Who, Yusuke?”

“ _Tch_ , no, damnit! Ren-Ren!”

Ann arches an eyebrow, throwing Ryuji a look seeped with skepticism

“C’mon!” Ryuji sputters. ”You should have seen all the ginger I was packing onto his bowl! He was unfazed. If I didn’t match that, I would have been made to look like some kinda bitch.”

She steals a glance back at Ren, his eyes unreadable in the glint of the light as Yusuke kicks up another one of his whirlwind musings, and wonders about the other sides of Ren Ryuji gets to see; of a playful, mischievous side that belies his calm exterior. 

As if piqued by the thoughts of him swirling in Ann’s head, Ren looks up and catches her staring.

He flashes her a small smile— amiable, encouraging— and it pins her to her chair.

Ann feels her cheeks stretch into a wide one of her own. Not one of those fakey reflex smiles out of courtesy, but one born from the place in her heart she usually reserves for Shiho and the softest, fluffiest cakes.

Next to her, Ryuji lets out a soft snore, half drooling on her desk, and Ann reads the same line _“94% of users have seen sustained use over the period of three months”_ probably three hundred times over without it ever sticking.

...

**_wednesday._ **

By the time Ann leaves the work building, it is dark and the rain has descended upon the city in full force.

Given her lack of an umbrella and the color of her choice of blouse today...risking the walk to her station would not be in her best interests. 

So, under what little protection the entrance of the building could offer, Ann waits, pondering sullenly whether she should call a taxi. 

The wind whistles as the entrance door swings open.

“...’m mentally drained...gonna need lots of Sojiro’s curry to heal up my SP…”

Futaba’s voice is gravelly and exhausted against the rain. And trailing not far behind her—

“Ann? You’re still here.”

The surprise and concern on Ren’s face almost startles her; but it’s not undue, considering even Makoto left at least half an hour earlier. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, I had to wrap a few things up before tomorrow,” she replies cheerily despite herself. “I just wish I had gotten the memo that it’d rain today earlier,” Ann sighs as she gazes upwards, deflating.

A chilly breeze kicks up. Ann instinctively draws her arms inward. A few stray drops land on the hem of her skirt.

“Taxis must be busy or stuck in traffic from the rain,” Ren notes. “And I don’t think this is a shower you can wait out.”

“Let’s go, Ren!” Futaba’s voice like an arrow pierces through the roar of the rain. “If we don’t hurry, I’m going to miss my show after dinner!”

Futaba taps her feet impatiently on the ground, one hand wrapped on around the handle of her open umbrella, and the other on the apex of her hip. But when she senses the air between Ren and Ann, Ann swears the impatient twist on her lips morphs into something mischievous, not unlike the way Ryuji looks when he has a plan he knows Ann would hate.

“Well, I guess it can’t be helped. As the protagonist, you’re the only one who can complete this task. I’ll let Sojiro know not to wait! I’ll feed Mona if he starts yowling. See ya!”

Futaba waves with her back to them, boots stomping jauntily in the rain, leaving Ann beyond bewildered.

“Eh? What did she—”

“I’ll walk you home,” Ren says simply, like it’s the most logical conclusion to the problem at hand. “Employee of this company or not, I have to make sure you’re safe.”

It _should be_ as simple as he says. That is, if it were anybody else. But this is _Ren_ , and the fact that he holds the highest position in her place of employment aside, he’s already gone above and beyond to save the day for her an embarrassingly high number of times.

“W-w-wait, I couldn’t ask that of you!” Her twintails shake vigorously. “It’s late, you should be getting home—”

“As should you. And...ah, sorry. It looks like Futaba took the big umbrella.”

He opens his umbrella and sidles a little closer to her so that it manages with all its meager area coverage to shelter her from the downpour. She catches the faintest scent of coffee.

It’s a scent that’s usually comforting and calming, but her thundering heart is all she can hear above the rain.

…

Like a gentleman, Ren walks her home. And like a gentleman, he doesn’t make it weird.

Ann is no stranger to the leers, the snide whispers behind furtive hands. When a man walks someone like her home, there’s probably an ulterior motive on his mind.

But when he asks her about her day, it feels like a stroll with an old friend.

And when Ann answers how she’d like nothing more than to fall face first into a huge, fluffy chocolate mousse and whipped cream, Ren laughs and says perhaps there is no greater way to break a fall. 

Somewhere in between Ren mentioning his slightly overly demanding cat and Ann recalling a small scar on the back of her hand given to her by one, Ann finds the tension in her unraveling, her laughter and smiles turning into the most genuine ones she’s had all day. And in its place, a boldness rises inside her, bubbling to the surface like a glass of champagne. It boils over when he bids her good night.

"Let’s exchange numbers!” Ann blurts out before he turns to leave.

In the streetlight and misty rain, Ren pauses and turns back to her with a curious expression.

“So that I can know you also made it home safely. Because...you know...everyone kinda relies on you as well. And imagine how I’d feel if something were to happen to you and I was the last one to see you!”

She might be talking a little too loudly and quickly, if only because that allows little room for silence or rejection.

However, it doesn’t mean she’s not a little surprised when Ren pulls his phone out of his pocket and asks her to recite her phone number.   
  


_...  
  
_

**_thursday._ **

**From:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 5:37:55 AM  
**To:** Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; Sakura, Futaba <futaba@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** Final Check-In

All,

As you know, we are submitting Project V-- officially to be titled as “The Velvet Room” into submission for review for publication by the end of today. With hope, our newest application The Velvet Room will be available for download by Monday. Ren and I request a brief status update. We are confident that everyone is currently in a good stage and on track with what is planned.

Everyone, let’s do our best!

...

**From:** Sakura, Futaba <futaba@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 8:01:14 AM  
**To:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>; Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** Re: Final Check-In

Mweheheh...For the fools who’d like to try to break into our apps...Only misery awaits them.

Also we’re out of instant ramen in the kitchen.

Chief Information Security Officer  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
futaba@phantomthievesapps.com

…

**From:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 8:06:19 AM  
**To:** Sakura, Futaba <futaba@phantomthievesapps.com>; Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** Re: Re: Final Check-In

This might also be a good opportunity to remind everyone that once we get our new office manager next month, requests regarding things around the office, including restocking of supplies and items in the kitchen, will need to be directed to Ms. Sadayo Kawakami.

...

**From:** Sakamoto, Ryuji <ryuji@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 8:26:11 AM  
**To:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>; Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** Re: Final Check-In

I’ve tested this baby inwards and outwards. Sparing a few minor issues (I’ll send them to ya, Ren), and a little bit of polish, it’s good to go!

...

**From:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 8:35:22 AM  
**To:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>; Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** Re: Final Check-In

I’m pleased to note that we’re seeing lots of great feedback from our pilot users and testers. Expect to see a spotlight about The Velvet Room in Tokyo Tech Today very soon! (And no worries; nobody important has been identified by name. I made sure that as far as the public is aware, our IPs are created by a secretive group of people who only go by codenames.)

I’ve also gone ahead and turned the data and feedback gathered into charts and visualizations, if anybody is interested. They’ll also be used to highlight the benefits and beauties of our application.

Almost there, everyone!  
  


Outreach and Public Relations Manager  
Phantom Thieves Applications, LLC  
ann@phantomthievesapps.com

**Attachments:** Proj_V_Key_Performance_Indicators_PRE-RELEASE.png

...

**From:** Kitagawa, Yusuke <yusuke@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 9:02:09 AM  
**To:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>; Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** Re: Final Check-In

I would stake my life in assuring you and Ren that visually, The Velvet Room is deficient in none and will offer users an experience that will be beneficial and stimulating to the eyes and mind at the highest level. 

Attached are screen captures of the visuals of the final product.

**Attachments:** FIGURE1-293539206.png

...

**From:** Mishima, Yuuki <mishima@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 10:02:09 AM  
**To:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>; Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Re: Final Check-In

I’ve gotten great responses from the first batch of goods that have gone out to early interested parties!! Guys, I’m so PUMPED!!

...

**From:** Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 10:15:33 AM  
**To:** Niijima, Makoto <makoto@phantomthievesapps.com>; Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Re: Final Check-In

Well done, everyone! Really liking what I’m seeing. Ann, those are great visualizations you devised. Mishima, very glad to hear you laid off the body pillows idea.

Everyone, I promise your hard efforts into this project will be repaid. None of this would be possible without you all.

...

**From:** Sakamoto, Ryuji <ryuji@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**Sent** : April 1X, 20XX, 11:11:15 AM  
**To:** Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>; Sakura, Futaba <futaba@phantomthievesapps.com>; +4 others **  
_..._  
****Subject:** Re:Re: Final Check-In

WHAT REN-REN IS TRYING TO SAY IS…

PARTY AT PENGI DARTS AFTER WORK ON FRIDAY.

LAST ONE THERE IS BUYING THE FIRST ROUND.

...

_**friday.** _

Pengi Darts is home to what Ryuji swears is the coldest mug of beer in all of Tokyo. And it doesn’t hurt that they serve a small yet tasty assortment of kushiage as well. It must be something about darts and billiards that makes one thirst for some cold, half-decent beer, and there is no better companion to alcohol than a little grease. 

Ann leans on a high bar table where their snacks are, close to the billiards tables, and watches Ren and Ryuji embroiled in a heated match— Ren is on the edge of the table, poised to fire a nearly impossible shot as Ryuji is both astounded and dismayed. Yusuke dances around not too far from them, fingers posed like a frame, trying to capture the essence of the competition. Makoto is ordering drinks at the bar, and Mishima is talking to— or rather, at— Futaba, who, from what Ann could tell, is cycling between being perplexed and being fascinated by his words.

The bar is pleasantly lively, comfortably lit, and faintly smells of fried food in a way that’s appetizing rather than sickening. The music is laid-back, and Ann can’t remember the last time she’s felt this accomplished, liberated, and _excited_ about being out on a Friday night like this. 

It hasn’t been too long ago that Ann was spending Friday nights at clubs where cigarette smoke hung in the air, the pulsating music and lights only served to hurt her head, and the clientele was more handsy than she could ever care for.

The french fry she was nibbling on now seems all too dry, and Ann is almost disgusted at how the past can claw its way to nearly ruin her night. 

Any lingering thoughts of her past dissipates, however, when Makoto returns to the table, setting seven frosty, frothing mugs of beer onto the table with a heavy thud. She lifts one to her lips and doesn’t put it down again until over half the mug is empty. 

Frankly, it leaves Ann impressed and a little scared.

“Everyone seems livelier now that we’ve finished Project V, don’t they” Makoto muses, a faint smile playing over her lips at Ryuji demanding a rematch from Ren.

Ann nods emphatically. “Especially you, Makoto! I think after the fourth 5AM email, people were beginning to get a little worried about you.”

“I-is that so,” Makoto stumbles a beat, pink dusting her cheeks as she instinctively tucks her hair behind her ear. “It’s because I know a lot of people depend on me. Ren depends on me.”

Makoto’s last four words run like ice down Ann’s spine in ways she cannot explain.

“It’s nothing like that, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Makoto waves her hands in the air for emphasis. “It’s because all of us at Phantom Thieves Applications believe in what Ren’s trying to do. Because he has to plan, lead, and engineer the products we make, I take it upon myself to organize and make sure what needs to be done gets done, especially when he’s limited to what he can do. And if that means five A.M. emails and nine P.M. emails, maybe both in the same day, I’ll see to it that what needs to get done will get done.”

There’s a kind of fire that exists in Makoto that is hard to see in emails and work meetings. But now that she’s seen it, Ann decides she could _really_ get to like off-hours Makoto.

“I can definitely drink to that,” says Ann, raising her mug.

Makoto meets her in earnest and takes a long gulp with all the grace of a queen.

“Hey, Makoto, one question, though...When you said Ren was limited to what he can do...what did you mean?”

Makoto’s face goes from being momentarily shocked to slightly anxious in a matter of less than a second.

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t know, do you?” Her voice lowers. “Ren used to be lead engineer at a major tech company, also working in behavioral and mental health applications. But when he found out they were selling sensitive user data to other companies without their explicit consent, he tried to do the right thing. Unfortunately, they were a step ahead of him, and...they fired him. And then, they blacklisted him.”

“That’s awful,” Ann whispers. Her eyes find Ren, talking to Mishima now, and it hits her. A wave of loneliness and the feeling of being cast aside wrongly in a world you once thought of as your home. She feels it acutely, because she’s known it intimately herself.

Makoto nods and takes another sip of her drink. “They made sure not another company would ever hire him again. But...that’s also why Phantom Thieves Applications was born, and he found everyone you see here along the way, along with other allies that you’ve probably already made contact with.” 

“Ren and I have always felt bad about keeping you at a distance in the beginning, but I hope now you can understand why. And why we request press releases not mention our names directly, especially for Ren,” she continues. “But since Ryuji recommended you, we knew you had to be trustworthy on some level.”

Makoto smiles at Ann with all the warmth in her deep crimson eyes.

“I think it’s obvious from everyone here that we are very glad to have you with us.”

And with that, Ann realizes this must be what it feels like to be a part of something, to _belong_ somewhere.

...

**_friday_ ** **. (22:37)**

Ann is now a couple of beers in, not to mention maybe the two shots that Ryuji managed to goad everyone into.

(For the record, Ryuji was also _very_ vocal in letting everyone know that technically Ren was the last one there, being held up by a phone call right as the rest of the Phantom Thieves crew was shuffling in. Apparently, the person on the other line was demanding fatty tuna sushi for the project’s closure, but Ann didn’t have too much time to worry about it before being dragged into the bar by Futaba.)

So now that she thinks about it, it’s probably not a great idea for her to be handling sharp objects right now, much less make them sail through the air with such force that it sticks to the mechanical dart board.

But Ren had been quietly playing a game of darts by himself while everyone else was busy watching Mishima and Yusuke make fools out of themselves trash-talking over the pool tables despite neither one of them being very good, and Ann, being the generous person that she is, decided he could use some company.

(But also, Ann could really use a break from the loud, overtly masculine energy playing out at the pool tables.) 

The first two rounds of 301 do not go spectacularly.

Ann somehow manages to launch one dart that simply ricochets off the board onto the floor, and another finds its point buried outside of the game area. In total, she scores them a whopping twenty-six points.

Ren, in all his niceness, claps and cheers her on all the same.

Ren, in all his niceness, also trusts her with the last, potentially game-winning shot.

Ren is also a fool, because Ann has to land a bullseye, and her coordination right now is far too questionable for anything productive. 

“Don’t overthink it,” he says next to her as she lines up the dart. “The moment you think you’ve got it, send it flying.”

Ann gulps, takes a deep breath, and shifts her stance.

“I know, I know,” she mutters, squeezing one eye shut and willing the sober part of herself to concentrate. It is especially hard when her head is abuzz with alcohol and the thought of Ren _watching_ her—“I just don’t know why it’s so hard to keep it _straight_.“

“Do you need some help?”

“Maybe— actually, definitely, if you want to win this. I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea for me to close us out—”

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you. I don't know if I'd trust myself.”

“Then, before you throw, allow me to make some adjustments…”

Ren takes a step towards her and he’s close, _so close_ , the heat she feels as he raises her elbow and loosens her wrist is inversely disproportionate to the lightness of his touch.

But when he puts his hand on the small of her back to straighten her posture, Ann lets slip a gasp that catches in her throat, and the next thing she knows the dart has left her hand and finds its target dead in the center of the board, lightly quivering.

The game board lights up and sings a short congratulatory tune, and Ann can hardly register what transpired in the last two minutes, much less her game-winning shot.

Still, it’s hard not to be excited about hitting a bullseye, and hitting one while tipsy? Even better.

With a delighted squeal, Ann punches the air with both fists, bouncing from toe to toe with her twintails swaying before the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach reminds her how much of a bad idea it is.

“Did you see that?!” She spins around to meet Ren, who is positively beaming.

“Impressive. Guess you had it in you all along.”

“Or maybe…” Ann leans in close, close enough to see the slight silver in his eyes. “...I just take well to a good leader,” she says with a lopsided grin.

And while it feels great to win, Ann knows without a doubt, the crowning glory of tonight is being able to see Ren lightly cough behind his hand with the smatterings of a _blush_ donning his cheeks.

"I’ll try to meet those expectations,” he replies.

...

**_saturday._ **

...

_**sunday.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats* over a month for a chapter...i'm the worst. and to end it on so many loose ends! truly...


	3. the things we'll discover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s when Ann’s eyes head down towards his lips, slightly parted in his sleep, that she thinks, oh._
> 
> Oh. 

“So...Tell me again what happened that weekend you went out with your coworkers? Because I’ll be honest, Ann, if you had replied to me fifteen minutes later than when you did, I would have called the cops.”

Ann knows that tone.

It’s Shiho’s _stern mother_ voice. The one that says she better have a good explanation for not answering her phone, or someone is getting an ass-kicking, so help her _god_ . And with the way that Shiho is briskly stirring her drink, Ann’s story better be _fucking_ good. It’s almost enough to make Ann sweat in the booth at the small, cozy Shibuya diner.

Ann ducks her head to sip her bubble tea for a second or two, stalling.

“Ah— well, you see—”

* * *

**_22:53_ **

“Aghhhhh!! There’s just no fuckin’ way! No effin’ way you are ALL this good at this game,” Ryuji bemoans loudly after his sixth loss of the night at the billiards table, the latest one bequeathed unto him by Futaba.

“Ryuji, it is my belief that you are trapped in a self-inflicting cycle in which you drink because you lose, and you lose because you drink,” Yusuke notes.

“Inari’s not usually right about things, but he’s right about that one, Sakamoto. Now face your punishment!” Futaba sings with a cheshire smile.

Ryuji quickly and indignantly chugs his mug of beer, unceremoniously wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Like hell I’m leaving before getting at least one win in! Or else I won’t be able to show my face here again! And I actually like this place!!” His eyes scan the room, almost deranged-looking. “Yo, Ann! You and me, man to man-- err, woman.”

“This again! You never learn, do you?” Ann sighs. “Fine, if only to teach you a lesson on how to admit defeat.”

“Fine! Since you think you’re such hot shit, let’s up the ante, then! How about a shot if you don’t manage to sink one on your round?”

“Oooh, a clash of pride and two blondes. This can only end in an explosive tragedy.” Futaba peers over her shoulder at Ren, the sharpness of her smile looking even _more_ gleeful. “Hey Ren, I hope you have a Revivadrin ready because you’re inevitably going to have to bring one of them back from the brink of death.”

“What makes you so sure, Futaba?”

“Call it intuition.”

...

_**23:45** _

“All right, it’s time to put an end to this. Neither one of you is sober enough to continue. I say let’s consider this a draw and head home before somebody really gets hurt.”

There’s a slant in Makoto’s words and lips that says she’s _this_ close to dragging someone out, and she is by no means afraid to.

“Nahhhhh, Mako, I got this in the bag.”

Ryuji waves off his director and continues concentrating on the billiards table.

“Ryuji, you’re cueing the wrong ball.”

Ann laughs haughtily, not unlike the way a villainess laughs when he has the upper hand. “That’s right, Ren, tell him it’s time to concede to the better woman and pack up.”

“That’s not our group you’re facing, Ann.”

“Hah! Now who’s looking pretty stupid, huh, Takamaki?”

“It’s not my fault! I usually look out for Yusuke’s stupidly tall face, but he’s gone and disappeared…” Ann glances around. “Where is Yusuke, anyway?”

“Yusuke and Mishima left some time ago. Futaba, too. She insisted Ren and I should stay to make sure you two get home fine.”

“Stop lyin’, Takamaki— I know you got your eyes glued onto Ren-Ren. ‘m not an idiot. You know I wasn’t sleepin’ that one time, right?”

“That’s enough from the both of you! Ryuji, you, with me. Ren, you’ll be fine escorting Ann home?”

“Yes,” Ren nods. “We should hurry if we don’t want to miss the last train.”

...

**_00:08_ **

“You’re sure you’re alright, Ann?”

“Of course I am, Ren! Do you think I’d be able to run around like this if I wasn’t?”

Mist hangs in the spring night air, and the street is slick from rain, but Ann jogs a few feet ahead of him for show.

“Careful, it’s a little dark, but it is the fastest way back to your apartment since we missed the last train.” Ren takes a quick glance at his watch. “It’s been a long week, so I’m sure you want to be home soon.”

A pang of guilt slightly deflates the giddiness coursing through Ann’s body.

“Sorry,” she says, throwing Ren a wink and a sheepish smile. “I guess Ryuji and I are just too similar sometimes. Stubborn as all hell. If we had just given up a little earlier, we would have made it.”

Ren shakes his head, unfazed. “I wouldn’t say that’s necessarily a flaw.”

Ann blinks, pausing in her backward-skipping to search his face. 

“That stubbornness and desire to never give up is what drives us to succeed. It’s exactly why we’re here today. In all honesty, I’m grateful for it.”

“O-oh,” she finishes. It sounded so lame, especially to the sentiments of his words, that she wants to kick herself. Even in her half-drunken state, Ann has to admit that no one has ever regarded her hardheadedness in that way before. More often than not, it’s landed her into some hot water. As for not giving up...if only he knew about the kind of person she was prior to joining the Phantom Thieves.

Still, perhaps it’s the small glimpse of vulnerability from Ren, or the alcohol amping her emotions to the extreme, Ann swallows a lump in her throat that drops to her sternum.

“You’re...too nice to me, Ren,” she mumbles to herself more than anything. 

Just why is he always so nice to her, anyway? Then again, isn’t he nice to everyone? When he’s not in his office, he’s helping out the other Phantom Thieves members, bouncing ideas, or passing around coffee for a pick-me-up. Not to mention all those contacts that she touched base with always spoke fondly of Ren. So really, who was she to think she’s something special? But he certainly doesn’t seem like the kind of person who leads people on...And that Ryuji! Who did he think he was, calling her out like that?! And faking her out, too! She could envision his stupid, smug little face right now, all teeth and a little comical, she’d be the first to wipe it right off—

“—Hey!! Watch it, bimbo!”

Ann’s shoulder is jerked painfully backward for a quick second before the force relinquishes her.

Her neurons are firing a bit slowly, so when she turns to see what or who grabbed her, she’s only barely registering that Ren is now close by her side and regarding the clearly inebriated man who bumped into her with quiet fury, the tenseness in his body signaling the man is one wrong move away from a strike. 

“Bad move,” Ren tells him lowly. There’s a feral edge to his voice that Ann has never heard from her quiet, mild-mannered friend before. Her chest tightens at the sudden change in his demeanor. “I suggest you not try that again and mind your own business.”

The man’s eyes dart between Ren and Ann, seemingly torn between his pride and his sense of self-preservation.

“ _Tch ,_ ” he spits. “A mophead like you’s not worth it.” But instead of immediately slinking away, he leers back at Ann. “Hey...I know you. You’re that model...”

Ann bristles at the mention of her former life; she has a sinking feeling he’s not going to be praising her for how well she performed as one.

“What are you—”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s right, you’re Anne-chan!” He guffaws. A wheezing, sickening sound that makes Ann’s blood run ice through her veins. “ _Bangin’ Anne_ , that slutty model! Your boyfriend here must be getting some sick sloppy seconds—”

Next to her, she can feel Ren clench and sharply exhale, milliseconds away from fist meeting face, but Ann…

Ann beats him to the punch.

Or kick, that is.

She swiftly throws up her leg right into the man’s gonads, and in an instant, he is howling and rolling around violently in the middle of the street.

Apparently, Ren is just as struck dumbfounded as the man who had just gotten kicked, because his eyes are wide behind his glasses, his mouth all but agape at the scene before him. 

“Run, Ren!”

Ann grabs his hand, practically dragging him for a few beats before his steps meet her pace.

They sprint down the dimly lit street, propelled by adrenaline that fizzles into tense, nervous laughter once they felt like danger was no longer imminent. Their ragged breathing and her own heart thrashing wildly in her chest fill her ears. She’s still half running when she hears Ren shouting:

“Wait, Ann, watch out, there’s—!”

Suddenly, she’s losing her footing. The ground is rising to meet her, so she throws her arms out forward to soften the impact and to not hit her face. A sharp pain shoots up her ankle, and the next thing Ann knows is that she’s fallen and she can’t get up. Well, not without a few scrapes that she’ll surely find once there’s finally some good lighting.

“Ann! Are you all right?”

Now that Ann thinks about it, it’s probably the second time Ren’s asked her that tonight, although he sounds infinitely more concerned now than he was previously.

“I’m okay,” she says, without really inspecting herself, but the worried edge in his voice makes her anxious in ways she can’t explain.

Ren helps her upright again, asks if she can walk, but Ann can’t very well demonstrate how “all right” she is now by running around the way she did earlier; her palms are bleeding, there’s a rip in her tights, and her ankle throbs horribly when she tries to put weight on it. Ann clamps down on her lip in a wince. The troubled crease on Ren’s brow deepens.

“My place is not far from here. We can get you cleaned up there if you don’t think you can make it home.”

The weight of the night—the week—bears heavily down on Ann; she’s tired, some gross dude manhandled her and called her a slut, her ankle might be sprained, and hell, the alcohol hasn’t even cleared her system yet. Going home now would hardly feel like the kind of comfort she wanted.

“Yeah.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “Let’s go. Please.”

She doesn’t even have the heart to protest when Ren offers to carry her on his back, although it’s hard to make an argument with her ankle being the way it is.

Ren’s strides are long and easy, even with her on his back, and he seems more than familiar with the street they are on.

“I take this way home all the time,” he answers when she asks him about it. “So I kind of already knew about that tricky step in the sidewalk you fell on.”

Now that he mentions it, the neighborhood seems awfully recognizable to her: the old market, the run-down theater, the shop with the friendly old man selling random knick-knacks and trinkets.

She realizes it when Ren stops and lets her down.

They’re at Café Leblanc.

...

**_00:38_ **

Ren presses a warm, damp towel to the heels of her palms, speckled with spots of red and broken skin. His hands are cool as he applies antiseptic over them. ****

It stings something terrible, especially now that the last dregs of alcohol and adrenaline have worn off. ****

“Sorry,” he says quietly. His eyes flick down to her ripped tights. ****

“O-oh! Right.” ****

Ren has the decency to turn around as she takes off the sheer legwear so that he could bandage her bleeding knees. She shimmies it off and stuffs it into her purse before hiking the hem of her skirt above her knees and settling onto the worn sofa. ****

“Ready! Do me your worst.” ****

The feeble attempt at a joke earns her a small laugh. ****

As Ren cleans her wounds, Ann suddenly realizes the implications of her being in his room. ****

His room being the upstairs attic of Leblanc, of course. ****

(“Did you expect something else?” ****

“Well...yes, actually.” ****

“Anything I make goes back into Phantom Thieves,” he says with a crooked smile. “Besides, Sojiro’s an old family friend. Says he could use the help on the weekends.”) ****

It’s sparse and a little ramshackle, bags of coffee beans lining one wall and his belongings on the other, but the window above his bed peers out into the twinkling lights of the neighborhood and gives an expansive view of the night sky. Off in one corner, there is a small play area for a cat; however, Ren mentioned Morgana is taking residence in the Sakura household that night since Futaba knew he’d be home late. ****

But here she is, skirt up, pants off, and he’s getting front-seat views to her legs (granted, they’re currently a little damaged, but still!)—should she be nervous? There’s a certain jitter in her bones, but nervousness doesn’t quite begin to cover it. ****

His touches are light and delicate, and when she feels his palms wrap around the hollow behind her knees, Ann nearly shudders. His slender digits graze her calf before wrapping around her slightly swollen ankle. ****

“The good news is that it doesn’t look too bad,” he says after inspecting her ankle. “You might be able to get away with just stabilizing and being off of it for a bit.” ****

He reaches for the bandage wrap and begins to swathe her ankle. ****

“Thank goodness…” she murmurs.

A brief silence overtakes them, and it feels like the calmest moment since forever. ****

“Hey, Ren?” ****

“Hm?” ****

“About that guy…those things he said to you...about me? I’m...sorry.” ****

Ren’s grip on her ankle tightens for a fraction of a second, and he pulls the bandage around her leg a little more snugly. ****

“It’s not you who should be apologizing.” ****

“But...I feel like I owe you an explanation.” ****

“You really don’t—” ****

“No, just wait, listen.” There’s almost a plea to Ann’s words, and with it, Ren drops silent. ****

She has to tell him, she thinks. Tell him now before her nerves falter. Tell him because maybe he kind of deserves to know (as her mind trails back to the conversation with Makoto). But then again, maybe part of it doesn’t even have anything to do with Ren at all. ****

It’s not something she has even told Shiho in its entirety, probably because Ann just doesn’t think she can stand even the possibility of disappointing or worrying her. Maybe she wants to tell him in part for the purposes of her own release, like draining a sore that has been left to fester for too long, and she does it with the hopes that Ren, whom she _trusts_ with every part of her body, every piece of her heart , would still accept her in spite of it. ****

She takes a deep breath. ****

“Back when I was modeling, I did things I wasn’t very proud of. But hey, when you’re young and dumb, you don’t mind sacrificing a bit of your dignity to get up another rung on the ladder, you know? I really...I really thought that if I stayed silent in my own self-suffering, it would eventually pay off for me somehow.” ****

“I mean, it started innocent enough— maybe in one shoot, they’d give me a more revealing outfit than what I was briefed on, or in another, they’d have me show a little skin and look extra suggestively at the camera...but before I knew it, I was known as Bangin’ Queen Anne. You know, guys would come up to me telling me how I was in their latest wet dream.” ****

She can feel tears clinging to her lashes. Her fists leave half-moons in her palms. ****

“It was...just so gross and demeaning! I’m not an object—or, or some sock puppet you take out of your dresser to beat it to! That’s not why I went into modeling. I went into modeling...because I wanted to inspire people. So that when people see me on a magazine cover, they’ll feel inspired and empowered. Like how I feel when I look at my best friend. And maybe...when I see myself on that cover, I’d see someone worthwhile. But the girl smiling at me back then, half-naked with some come-hither look on her helpless face? I couldn’t stand her.” ****

“So I tried to change; I tried to tell the producers of all the gigs I showed up to that I wasn’t going to be that girl anymore. And you know what their response was?” ****

She could feel the intensity of Ren’s eyes looking up at her from his seat on the floor. She closes her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. ****

“They told me I could leave early and never contacted me again. And that’s what I got for trying to be Ann Takamaki, and not Bangin’ Queen Anne.” ****

In front of her, Ann feels him shift. He grabs something off the shelves and returns with a box of tissues and a bottle of water. Ren kneels next to her, which, from her height sitting on the sofa, makes him eye-level to her. He places his hands on her shoulders, thumbs on the far edge of her collarbone. ****

“I’m sorry you were put through that, Ann. They took advantage of you, and then they shut you out after they were done using you. There aren’t enough words to describe how heinous that is.” ****

“But...what they weren’t able to do is stop you from being Ann Takamaki. Ann Takamaki, who cares deeply about her work and the people who depend on her. Who gives it her all and never anything less. Ann Takamaki, with a passion that burns so brightly it inspires the people around her. Am I wrong?” ****

When Ann lifts her face to meet his, there’s something indescribable in the way he looks at her and only _her_ , and the unshakable faith he holds for her that shines so clearly in the silver smokiness of his eyes. He too knew the pain of betrayal and having the knife twisted by the world around them, and yet, he’s _comforting_ her, carrying her back into the light from the darkness of her past. It stirs something deep within her, something she’s hesitant to find out because she knows it just might shake up how she feels when she looks at him, how comfortable and _safe_ it feels to be around him. ****

“You played a huge role in the success of our pre-launch, and now people are really looking forward to what we’re creating. I am incredibly grateful for you, Ann, for everything that you are, and for all that you do. And nothing’s going to change that.”

...

**_06:26_ **

_Dry._

Her mouth is so dry.

Ann blindly feels around for her phone to check the time, but the first thing her fingers touch is not the thin metal of her phone; it’s a mess of hair, a warm body, and it makes her heart completely stop.

She twists to get a clearer look, and it’s evidently _Ren_ , fast asleep, with half of him on the edge of the couch and the other half of him still on the floor.

She sifts through her mind, through the heavy fog of tiredness and a tiny, pinching headache.

Oh, Ann remembers.

Ann remembers leaning forward into him, forehead against his shirt and crying out tears long overdue. She remembers staying up with Ren, talking into the night— about the past and the future. About serious things and silly things. (Things like “So, Ren, about these tissues…” to which he swiftly replied, “Allergies.”) And sometimes not talking at all as they fell into an easy silence. She supposes at some point, they fell asleep, exhausted, and Ren hadn’t bothered to make it to his own bed only about five feet away. His glasses are still on, dangling and askew with half his face pressed into his arm.

That might have been a mistake, because Ren’s going to have _such_ a crick in his neck.

Ann softly laughs, carefully removing his glasses, and savors the image of him slumbering in the soft light of the morning sunrise permeating the room. Mentally tracing the curve of his cheekbone and slightly marveling at the way his hair falls onto his face.

It’s when Ann’s eyes head down towards his lips, slightly parted in his sleep, that she thinks, oh.

_Oh._

_..._

**_09:02_ **

Ann is shaken awake by her phone, buzzing furiously as it receives a barrage of texts from Shiho demanding to know where she is, is she dead, doesn’t she know her best friend’s worried sick, and please, please, please call or reply to her.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Ann scribbles a short reply, which she is sure will be followed extensively by Shiho and another hailstorm of messages, and scrambles out of Ren’s sofa. The blanket draped over her slumps to the ground with a thud.

Ren isn’t anywhere in the attic, but she hears voices coming from downstairs.

After gingerly testing her footing on her injured ankle, she slips on her boots, heads towards the stairs, and steels herself for the inevitable Walk of Shame.

(Without anything actually ever happening, obviously. But what’s anyone supposed to think when a girl leaves a guy’s room with yesterday’s clothes on?)

Past the bottom of the stairs, she sees Ren behind the bar counter, garbed with an apron and pouring hot water over some coffee grounds.

“Good morning, Ann,” he greets her before turning to the shop owner. “Sojiro, this is Ann. She works with me.”

Sojiro’s eyebrows shoot up, high and far past his glasses.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it,” he says, a bit hoarsely. “Although I never thought you’d be coming in from that direction. Would you like some coffee? It’ll be on the house.”

Ann shakes her head politely. “Thank you for the offer, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really have to get going.”

“Will you be alright with your ankle?” Ren calls after her as she heads for the exit.

“I’m fine! It’ll be fine! I’ll see you back at work! Thank you for everything!”

And Ann leaves. 

But not before catching a low “Hoo boy…”

* * *

_“Ah— well, you see—“_

So, Ann stammers and stalls. It’s not usual for her to be at a loss for words in front of her oldest and closest friend, but even if it’s at the forefront of her mind, she’s not good enough with words to put it delicately. 

But is there even a poignant, dignified way to say, “I think I might be a little in love with my boss-friend, Ren Amamiya”?

Just saying those words in her head makes Ann's heart all at once want to do vaults and somersaults. Her heart also wants to set itself on fire and shrivel into nothingness.

Too bad for it, there's no room for spontaneous combustion on her agenda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, more like a chapter 2.5 than anything. a departure from the usual texts/emails as well, but i just got too excited because there are FEELINGS and i love it when feels happen.


	4. if love is the answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _“You know, no one looks at me the way you do,” she whispers. She roams the contours of his face, the length of his lashes, the way his hooded eyes give him away._  
>  _He wets his lips, asks, “Like what?”_  
>  _“Like I’m worth more than what I look.”_  
>  _“Because you are, Ann.”_  
>  _There he is again— in that tone of his that says he’s sure,_ so sure, _there could be no other answer. And honestly, how could she ever protest against conviction like that?_  
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhh crap, it happened: I upped the rating. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy/continue to enjoy!
> 
> also, I want to thank all you lovely people who have left feedback, in the form of comments, kudos, subscriptions-- anything! Truly, you have all kept me motivated to keep telling this tale.

...

**_pecomeno239485 posted:_ **

Thank you for posting this!! My friend recommended the app to me when I confided in her that I was having some trouble with my home life...however, I do worry a lot about whether or not someone else can somehow hack into the app and steal my info. There are some pretty sensitive things I’ve said that I don’t think I can tell anyone else, nor would I want anyone else to come across it...How can I be sure it won’t fall into the wrong hands?

> > _Oracle_Navi replied:_
> 
> Never underestimate the pride of a hacker! It’ll be a cold day in hell before anyone gets through one of my defenses. Just ask all those I’ve sent there. (ﾉΦωΦ)ﾉ✧
> 
> > _Queen replied:_
> 
> What I believe Oracle is trying to say is that we take your trust to heart, and we do our utmost to ensure your information is protected. It might be presumptive of me to ask so, but please trust us when we say we have the best in the industry on that.

**_orzorzorzorz posted:_ **

someone there must have an eye for the arts...the shades of blue...so calming...it fills my heart with such relaxing energy…

> > _Fox replied:_
> 
> I’ll be sure your sentiments are adequately conveyed to the head designer.

**_risettefanx39000posted:_ **

job opening at PTA when?

> > _Skull replied:_
> 
> Sorry! Invitation only! And uh, we’re pretty set on keeping a core group of people to make key decisions. But it’s always nice to dream, huh?

**_mika___chan posted:_ **

I heard there’s a former model working at PTApps. Is that true?

> > _Panther replied:_
> 
> Haha! I’m not sure where you get your sources from, but I think they could really use a double-checking. Just my two cents.

**_eriririririn posted:_ **

I can’t believe such a good app is free!! How do you keep the lights on at the office?!?!

> > _Queen replied:_
> 
> We’re very happy to hear that you’re enjoying The Velvet Room. Of course, one of the core tenets that we founded our company on is that we wanted our technology to help anyone who needs it, and if that meant it should be free for download, then that was something we had no qualms about moving forward with. That said, we really rely on the support and generosity of our partners and users in order to keep the essentials running.
> 
> > _yuuki_ofthe_moon replied:_
> 
> But we do also offer some merchandise to compensate you for your generosity! Here’s the link.

**_crow_prince4812 posted:_ **

I’ll be straightforward— it’s incredibly astounding to me how a small startup devised an application utilizing A.I. technology that rivals, and in many cases outstrip, that of companies that have not only been in the business for a much longer time but also have much larger funding sources. Can you give a little more insight into what makes you successful?

> > _Joker replied:_
> 
> Thanks much for your high praise, but there isn’t really anything special or magical added to our model to make it that much greater. We’re just a solid team of people who’ve been through a lot and met a lot of people along the way. And throughout those immense highs and intense lows, the thing that shines through the most is the empathy that you encounter, from yourself and from others. We’re all connected by feelings, and that thought guided us as we trained our models.
> 
> _ > crow_prince4812 replied: _
> 
> I see. Thank you for your answer. If I may be so indulgent and ask you another question: what are your future intentions for Phantom Thieves Applications?
> 
> > _Joker replied:_
> 
> That depends on what you mean.
> 
> If you’re talking about the long-term future of the company as a whole, we’re not really looking for acquisition. What matters most to us is that our applications stay freely available to people everywhere, especially those who may need it most. While it’s true that more money means more resources to create more products, we aren’t willing to compromise our vision and what we stand for.
> 
> In the short-term, though— we’ve got another project in the works that builds upon and refines the capabilities of The Velvet Room. Stay tuned!

_..._

**From:** Okumura, Haru <haru@okumurafamilylifestyle.com>  
**Sent** : May 0X, 20XX, 8:02:47 AM  
**To:** Takamaki, Ann <ann@phantomthievesapps.com>  
**_...  
_ ** **Subject:** Greetings from Okumura Family Lifestyle!

Good morning Takamaki-san! 

I hope this email finds you well. I’ve heard a great deal about the Phantom Thieves and Phantom Thieves Applications recently, so it is very much my honor and delight to be able to speak to their public relations manager! I also hope that you’ll forgive me for being so intrusive; I had to dig through quite a few connections in order to finally glean your email address.

Allow me to introduce myself:

My name is Haru Okumura. You might have heard of my father, Kunikazu Okumura, the President of Okumura Foods, who stepped down late last year due to his health. Since then, I have stepped into a leadership role, working to rebrand and expand the Okumura Foods name from being one that is associated with cheap, fast food into one that is associated with health and happiness, comfort and joy. My belief is that if people are nurtured with all those things that I mentioned previously, then they can overall lead better lives, similar to how plants, when given the proper love and care, can produce sweeter fruits and more vibrant colors. 

As I am very much interested in speaking with those who envision the same things and think in the same vein, it’s clear to me that Phantom Thieves Applications and the people who compose the company, with the mission to heal and empower society, are exactly the kind of people I’d love to connect with. 

Therefore, I’d love to invite you and an esteemed guest to a party that my company is throwing in honor of my father’s birthday at Roppongi Hills this coming weekend.

Please understand that I am sending this with no ill intent! My wish is that it will be a great networking opportunity for us both (aside from celebrating my father, of course!), and that we will be able to understand each other a little bit more when it comes to our respective businesses. 

Please reply should you choose to accept! I will send over the details right away.

Warmest wishes,

CEO of Okumura Family Lifestyle  
haru@okumurafamilylifestyle.com

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

**This message has been forwarded to Amamiya, Ren <ren@phantomthievesapps.com>**

...

The flute of champagne in her hand is entirely _way_ too nice and expensive for her to be knocking back the way that she does— and _seriously? Did alcohol do her any favors last time?—_ but Ann is in desperate need of some liquid courage, anything to take the _edge_ off of her nerves from the way being around high-brow people from the definite upper echelons of society does.

But also…

Her eyes flicker to the man at her elbow making small talk with some burly, older bigwig from some I.T. firm.

She’s searching for anything to distract her from the way Ren— or actually, Akira, she should say— looks in his suit, darker than midnight and pressed sharp, and with his snow-white masquerade mask in stark contrast, his eyes are naturally the center of attention. Ren is practically oozing with a mysterious, almost devil-may-care allure that is, honestly, kind of really working for Ann, so she’ll have to be forgiven for being a little tongue-tied.

But _god_ , he’s not doing her any favors when she feels his gentle touch on the bare skin of her shoulder.

“You look kind of distracted. Can I get you anything?” He asks, leaning in close in the midst of the music of the band and the chatter of the party, his breath ghosting the shell of her ear.

She shakes her head, the loose ringlets of her golden, unbound locks brushing her back. "I'm fine...I think." Ann’s fingers nervously trace the edge of her mask— red and distinctly feline-shaped, to compliment her dress. “I...I guess I’m kind of nervous. A crowd like this can make you feel small in ways you don’t usually think about.” She sighs. “Some PR manager I am, huh?”

The little smirk Ren has been wearing all night spreads a little wider.

“Ann, have you seen you? You’re nothing short of fabulous tonight. We’re going to have to start introducing _you_ as the leader of Phantom Thieves Applications. People might actually start paying attention.”

“I don’t think it’d be for the right reasons,” Ann retorts through giggles. “They’d probably be thinking about who I had to marry and then kill to manage that.” 

A waiter presents a silver tray laden with champagne flutes filled rosy and effervescent. Ann passes, but Ren tacitly accepts one and lifts it to his lips.

“Well, if looks could kill…” He tilts the glass, never once taking his eyes off of her own. They’re dark and glimmering and lurking with something Ann can’t tell. “...I’m definitely a dead man walking.”

Somewhere deep within the recesses of her mind, there’s a small part of her screeching, _Kiss him! Climb him like a tree and fucking_ **kiss** him _!_

Fortunately, she'sstill mostly ruled by the _sensible_ part of her brain, so Ann simply replies, “Umm...well. You know, I think Ryuji would be very upset at me for killing his best friend, so. Probably for the best if we avoid that.”

“Wait. I’m Ryuji’s best friend?”

Ann can see the corners of his mask where his eyes crinkle with mirth, and her control over that tiny, screeching part of her is surely slipping.

“Takamaki-san! Kurusu-kun!”

Haru Okumura is hurriedly marching towards them as fast as her heels would allow her, curls bouncing, the tuile of her gown fluttering. Her own mask is dark and classical and stays firmly on her face despite her motion.

“I’m so glad I managed to catch you two. I’m so sorry— the other guests have just kept me so busy. Would you like to converse somewhere a little quieter?”

...

Haru leads them across the hall, passing large windows that stretch from the plush carpet to the ceiling high above, and invites them into a smaller room, where it’s quieter and more intimate.

The room is furnished with squishy leather chairs, a loveseat, and a coffee table, with softly lit lamps. In tune with the rest of the hotel, the style is contemporary yet warm, with earthy tones. Their little rendezvous away from the party was apparently premeditated, as a tray of tea and biscuits awaited their arrival. Already, it feels more welcoming and inviting than the ballroom across the hall.

Haru is true to her word; she’s curious but not overly eager, nor did she give off the impression that she’s interested in acquiring Phantom Thieves Applications, either. Her questions are gently probing, with the genuine intent to learn and glean more information. Still, it’s hard to shake off the feeling that it’s a business pitch, given the status of the person they’re talking to.

So, Ann handles the big-picture questions regarding the Phantom Thieves’ mission and foundational principles, with “Kurusu-kun,” who is simply an engineer rather than the founder, as the subject matter expert to provide the technical knowledge. With Ann supplying the outward warmth and enthusiasm while Ren backs her up with expertise and industry knowledge, the ease with which they bounced off each other as a team isn’t lost to her.

To her credit, Haru herself is quite the polite and attentive audience as well, keeping the tone light and casual. 

Still, it’s passion and pride that drive the discussion. There’s something empowering and _wonderful_ , Ann thinks, about settling into the realization that you’re dedicating your time, your _life_ into a vision that you truly believe in, alongside a group of people that share your values, and a man that…

Well, a man that…

“...I’m very happy to hear that you wouldn’t object to a possible collaboration in the near future, Kurusu-kun! I’m definitely looking forward to seeing what we can come up with together to help people,” Haru says brightly, setting down her teacup.

The room echoes with the sound of knuckles rapping on the french doors. 

“Okumura-sama, they’re looking for you. It’s almost time for the cake-cutting.”

“Tell them I’ll be there in a minute,” Haru calls to the figure behind the doors before standing up and straightening her gown and hair. “I’m sorry I have to cut things short. I honestly wish I didn’t have to go back!” Haru laughs sheepishly. “But please feel free to enjoy yourself. Have you had the chance to visit the observatory floor? I’ve heard it’s magical. I’ve never been. But we rented it out for our guests, so please feel free to take advantage of it!”

She bends down to pick up the pieces of china and stack them on the tray.

“Here, I’ll help you,” Ren offers.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you! I’m just going to set this back in the main hall to help the cleaners a little. Besides,” Haru glances over to Ann. “I don’t want to steal you away from your date.”

 _Date?_ It never truly occurred to Ann how much of a _date_ she and Ren seemed like. For all she knew, forwarding the Okumura party invitation to him was only natural, knowing the role he played in the organization. It was a matter of mutual interests and benefits rather than her asking him _out_. 

But Ren’s not jumping to correct her. He’s only looking at Ann expectantly as if asking for permission, and Ann almost feels like she’s slow to catch onto a joke that everyone is already in on.

“It’s not a problem at all,” she says with a smile. “It’d be improper for someone like you to be seen carrying around dirty dishes. And it’s not like he’ll be gone for long.”

...

Ren _is,_ however, gone for longer than Ann expected him to be. 

In the time that he is assisting Haru, Ann takes a few minutes to marvel at the city lights from the giant windows in the hall. Even from here, the streets stretch like electric ribbons, and the city winks at her like a field of stars. She snaps a quick photo and files a mental note to make a trip to the observatory floor before the night is over.

When she returns to the ballroom, she scans the room and finds Ren speaking with another important-looking figure. His eyes meet hers, and he shoots her an apologetic look, subtly gesturing to the person talking to him. 

She snickers lightly. Apparently, he’d been accosted and trapped into another conversation full of small talk and pompery, at least from the other party’s end. And while she doesn’t envy that, she is happy to see the Phantom Thieves name gain recognition, even if it’s with “Akira Kurusu.” Haru obviously played a role in fanning the flames here, but that people are interested in talking to them is proof enough that they were doing something _right_.

In Ren’s absence, Ann finds herself nursing a cocktail at the bar. At her request, it’s lighter in alcohol than usual. A fancy party is hardly the place to get shit-faced, not when there’s the Thieves’ reputation to maintain. 

She steals a glance at her phone. And then, she hears a voice address her.

“I’d be remiss if I let a beautiful woman drink all by her lonesome.”

It’s a voice that drips with authority. Confidence. It’s smooth and sweet as honey now, but she can only imagine how it might sound on the opposite end of things. Her insides instantly, instinctively coil and twist as she steels herself to walk the fine line between letting the man down easy and being firm with her message of _please leave me the fuck alone_.

He orders her another drink before she can even open her mouth to reply, settles into the space next to her like her lack of words is an open invitation. Drunkenness dusts the space under his eyes pink, but she notices it after smelling it on his breath.

The man is surprisingly eloquent for someone who seems inebriated. He introduces himself as Masayoshi Shido, owner of Asylum Ark Technologies, has she heard of them? They’ve released hundreds of different applications and digital technologies made for different domains, behavioral and mental health included. He has friends in high places, and they have all commended him on the quality of Asylum Ark’s output and intellectual property. Shido chuckles low when he hints at how it also helps that they also keep him ahead of the market in the industry. It never hurts to have clout and sizable coffers, and Shido is in no shortage of either.

He passes the conversation to her when he asks what someone like her is doing all by herself— not without a poorly disguised rove at her body that makes Ann sorely regret her choice in a long, off-shoulder dress that clings to her every curve— a model can be even more desirable when she lets people think she’s been taken.

Ann is surprised at the steadiness of her voice when she honestly replies, “Actually, I’m not a model. I work for Phantom Thieves Applications. Have you heard of them?”

Shido takes a sip of his scotch. “I’m surprised such a young startup company has any business being here. Many of the people you see here are high-ranking officers from large companies, in some cases, even conglomerates with a long-standing association with the Okumura name. At least, under the former CEO, that is. It’s hard to say if that will stay the same with the company under his daughter trying to shake things up.”

“Maybe the new CEO is trying to instill some changes to keep up with our changing society, and she does it with an eye towards the future and the transformation of people’s lives for the better. And by allying with young companies like us, she’s determined to see growth from the ground up rather than trickle down.”

Shido stares at her for a moment that seems like an eternity and blinks before barking a laugh.

“I can see now you are definitely no model. There are actually brains to go with the pretty face.” He touches his goatee contemplatively. “Why don’t you come work for me at Asylum Ark? I’m sure I can find you an... _agreeable_ position in the company. I can certainly pay you and give you more benefits than what your current employer offers. I can’t imagine that a small startup can offer you much. And the work-life balance must be truly horrendous.”

Ann’s mind flashes to her tiny apartment. The pictures of her former modeling peers smiling brightly at her on her phone, wrapped around their boyfriends after a delicious, probably expensive birthday dinner. Nights coming home when the only thing she has energy for is removing her shoes and makeup.

But in between those? In between those thoughts are the ones of her and Ryuji, goofing off in the staff kitchen room, flicking mochi puffs at each other and catching it with their mouths. Snack runs to the local konbini when she senses everyone’s in for a long night, with the notoriously frugal Yusuke, and watching him struggle to select just one flavor of jagariko for himself (with Ann surreptitiously buying him both the flavors he was vacillating on anyway). Taking thirty-minute breaks to watch an episode of the romantic-comedy-martial arts-drama-anime with Makoto and Futaba that Ann recommended to them.

And Ren.

Falling in love with his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his natural instinct to help those who need it.

And that’s only skimming the surface of it.

“No,” Ann says, firmly and never more sure of anything in her life. “No, I don’t think— actually, I am _sure_ that’s definitely something I’m _not_ interested in.”

If Shido is offended, his only indication is a small, almost imperceptible noise he makes in the back of his throat before returning to his scotch.

“Very well. It certainly is no loss to me. And besides, do you really think this little surge of interest for Phantom Thieves Applications for one measly little app will spell success for them? Data and technology are constantly growing. It won’t be long until something else comes up to snatch away the people’s attention. And that isn’t to say that your company and their technology won’t already be acquired by another, much more foundationally sound and better-funded company, either.”

Ann is visibly shaking. “That’s—!”

“No matter how noble you think your cause is, in the end, what matters is money. Power. Reputation. You’ll never change the world with ideals alone. But I suppose optimism makes fools of us all. What if I told you that I’ve heard rumors that the leader of Phantom Thieves Applications is some broke, disgraced nobody? It’d be in his best favor to sell while he—”

“He’s not…Ren isn’t like that,” she grounds out, low and barely above a whisper. Her breaths are even despite its shakiness. In the back of her mind, she notes with a sense of pride that there are no tears, no prickling in the corner of her eyes. There is only white-hot rage.

Masayoshi Shido raises an eyebrow, apparently not having heard her.

“He’s not like that, and he definitely won’t _ever_ turn his back on his friends like that!” It takes every bit of her self-control to not scream it in his face. He’s twice the man you’ll ever be, with the undying loyalty of everyone around him. Can you say the same for yourself?”

Whatever Shido’s reply is, she doesn’t hear, she doesn’t need to, and she doesn’t care, as she turns on her heels and walks away, heels furiously striking the floor.

It’s only when Ann reaches the ballroom exit that she allows a shuddering breath to escape her. Another minute in there and Ann thinks she might have suffocated. Or punched someone. Or at the very least, thrown her drink into someone’s face.

But the anger and the tiniest dregs of doubt that _that man_ stirred up, the ones she thought she had let settle like pebbles in the bottom of the ocean since joining the Phantom Thieves way back in March, still hum in her blood, tingling like a thousand needles.

She needs to stop this line of thought before it overtakes her. Drowns her.

She needs…

She needs a little air.

...

...

The city’s lights splay onto the dark walls from the wide, wide windows of the observation deck like a kaleidoscope, multicolored and in motion. With how quiet and empty it is, it feels like being in an aquarium, the tiny luminous dots swimming to meet the inky night sky. Ann fleetingly wonders how it might feel like to be a tiny bauble of light, drifting aimlessly, dissipating like stardust in the morning sunlight, only to return when after dark.

Tokyo’s vastness has a way of making her feel so small and insignificant. She hadn’t quite imagined being up here would make her feel this way; it doesn’t really fit Ann’s definition of “magical.” 

There’s a single set of footsteps on the polished floors. They stop right beside her. 

“Not having too much fun without me, I hope.”

She knows that voice from anywhere; Ann has spent a lot of time these days thinking about the owner of it, after all. 

“How did you know I was here?”

“I got your text. Alongside a little inductive reasoning.” Ren’s face mirrors Ann’s own; naked as his mask sits above his brow. “Sorry I left you for so long,” he sighs, a look of annoyance crossing his face, and he rubs his forehead like just thinking about it makes his head hurt. “People just kept walking up to me…”

“Ren?” Any further words he might have had dies at the mention of his name. She turns, and they are face to face.

Ann doesn’t give him any other warning before wrapping her arms around his chest, her face nuzzling into his suit jacket, slowly breathing him in. He is warm and only hesitates for a second before circling his arms around her waist.

“Don’t ever leave, okay?” She feels her lips moving, her voice speaking, but all the other parts of her unassociated with them just sink into his embrace. She isn’t quite sure what she’s pleading for, just that if time could just stand still for a moment and let her savor his warmth in her arms. “Don’t leave us.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ren says, uncertainty dragging out the syllables like lines in the sand. He’s cute when he’s confused, especially so when considering his perpetual composure. “Did...something happen?”

Ann lets out a long, wet exhale before stepping back and letting go of him. She can still feel the ghost of his arms around her. “I just really missed you.”

In the stillness of the room, Ren’s soft chuckle brims with affection, and Ann can’t help but feel like it’s something he saves for her, _only for her_. “Surely I can’t be _that_ important.”

“You are, though. To a lot of people. _To me_.” She softly brushes aside his bangs resting on his forehead with her fingertips. His eyes, onyx in the dimness, flash with surprise before quelling. “You know, no one looks at me the way you do,” she whispers. She roams the contours of his face, the length of his lashes, the way his hooded eyes give him away.

He wets his lips, asks, “Like what?”

“Like I’m worth more than what I look.”

“Because you are, Ann.”

There he is again— in that tone of his that says he’s sure, _so sure_ , there could be no other answer. And honestly, how could she ever protest against conviction like that?

“You’re beautiful, inside and out. And you don’t need anyone to tell you for it to be true.”

Ann fingers the lapel of his jacket. Spreads her hand over Ren’s chest and slowly slides it up towards his shoulder. She feels his breath hitch under her fingers, and that is all she needs for that tiny part of her deep within her recesses to _snap_.

She replies to his words in the only way she knows how.

She twists her fingers around his collar, sharply inhales, and pulls him down for his lips to crash into hers.

Ren tenses for half a second before sinking into her, running a hand up her naked back and into her cascading hair, blazing a trail of fire and sending shivers up her spine. He wraps his other arm around her, pulling her taut against him, the curves of her body slotting so perfectly against him that Ann is helpless to the moan that escapes her lips but is quickly swallowed up by Ren.

What starts as sweet and chaste becomes heated and urgent as a searing heat that starts from her core and spreads all over, and it makes every part of her ache for his touch.

Kissing Ren is all at once everything and nothing like she imagined it to be. In fact, she highly doubts all the imaginative power in the world could have ever helped her come close to the real thing. He tastes like coffee; deep and mellow and tinged with the sweetness of champagne, and she drinks him in like a woman dying of thirst. The high he brings her is far, far better than any caffeine jolt.

Kissing Ren feels like home. The feeling of sweet surrender. Heady and intoxicating. Sublimely exhilarating. 

When they finally separate, Ann is in a daze, and she knows her face looks every part like it.

Ren’s knuckles brush her temples, sweeping her locks away from her face and tracing the curve of her cheek.

“Is that all it took for you to do that?” A hint of a smile plays at the corner of his lips, even as they are bright and slightly swollen, the stars in his eyes glittering.

A smile blossoms on her lips. “For you? Always.”

His hands slide to her waist, and he pulls her in close, close enough so that his lips are mere millimeters away from her wildly stuttering pulse point. The thought of him sucking and running his tongue over it shoots a dangerous little thrill through her body.

“Then I must be the world’s biggest fool to have waited so long.”

The giggle bubbling in her turns into a choked gasp the moment the kisses he’s dotting her jawline with turn into him mouthing her collarbone.

She brings her arms around his neck, threads her fingers through his perpetually wind-swept locks, and revels in the low hum it brings from Ren.

There’s no way she can go back to what they were before this, she thinks. Not when he’s making her forget how to form sentences, words, her own damn name. All she wants— _craves—_ is to feel him all over her.

Their lips meet again, and every sigh he draws from her and every groan she elicits from him builds into a throbbing _need_ between her thighs, so much so that she’s arching into him, breasts pushing against Ren’s chest as her blood runs electric under his hands. His lips. His tongue.

And she knows he feels it too, for when he pulls away from her (with no shortage of reluctance from either one of them), expression hazy with lust and desire, Ann watches the way his throat bobs before asking her “Do you want to get out of here?”

This is the final juncture. Sleeping with somebody with power over you is never a principle Ann could stand by, and Ren towers over her in more ways than one. First, there is the obvious one: he’s her boss in a job she happens to really love and care about. Two, with all the time they’ve spent together, he knows her in and out, all the ways she holds herself together and therefore also all the ways she could break apart. And three, she _fucking loved him_. With all her heart, body, and soul. With a fervent passion that makes her think about him all day and well into the night.

To relinquish that kind of control to someone scares the living _shit_ out of her. It would be so much easier to stay friends, safe in the harbor of something comfortable and familiar. 

Then again, maybe that was never an option. Maybe she was just doomed to love him, way back to the very first time she went into his office and he smiled at her like she was the only person in the world who mattered.

And if loving someone is just another question of trusting someone, for Ren, she only has one answer.

“Yes, I do.”

...

There are three things about that message that Shiho does not need to know:

  1. The rate of success for Ann’s “Sexy Little Number” is certainly 100%, or in other words, one for one. Although, if Ann were to be honest, Ren seemed more speechless when it was pooled around her feet on the bedroom floor than when she was wearing it. (And to be perfectly fair, as roguishly charming Ren’s little smirk can be, Ann loves it most where she can’t even see it— between her legs.)
  2. The condoms take 3 minutes to find (thanks to Shiho...wanting to be sneaky is one thing, but when she _is literally cock-blocking her_ , that’s a problem), but only seconds for him to open it and when he’s at long last inside of her, her lips part and her eyes flutter closed and Ann swears the stars that she sees beat the ones on that observatory deck _any day._
  3. Also, Ann will probably have to get Shiho something to thank her for having the foresight to include more than one. She might even forgive her for her previous transgressions alongside it. Who knows, something about Ren’s fingers, wet and slick inside of her, makes her feel magnanimous.




End file.
